Since Aemond was old enough to crawl, he would chase after his mother through the halls of the Red Keep and up every serpentine staircase with his chubby infant hands. The urge to reach for his mother's silk skirts as they brushed over the marble steps were the earliest memories he could probably ever remember. Whether they were sticky with leftover treats or encrusted with dirt from the gardens, his mother would smile with genuine warmth down at him when he would fist the trophy of her attentions between his fingers. Because his family's approbation was what Aemond sought, no matter how challenging it was as the second son and fourth child from his father's second wife. Born to a King, a prince of the realm, he grew up attended to by servants, wet nurses, groomsmen, maesters, guards, and could never justifiably complain he was lacking in care. While his older brother would scream, throw toys, and sometimes strike out at their mother's handmaids or Septas for the desired accedence all Viserys Targaryen's children coveted, Aemond would linger in the background of it all. Aegon would throw himself from the council chambers Valyrian sphinxes just to see their mother and father shout or turn their heads. Though the whole moon Aegon spent with his arm casted seemed a dense consequence for the exasperation it caused their parents.
When his mother grew swollen with his little brother, it all seemed significantly overshadowed when his older half-sister revealed she too was with child. Poor Daeron, third born son, never stood a chance against the Realm's Delight's announcement. His father had been so excited by Rhaenyra's news, celebratory feasts and tourneys were thrown, and Viserys cheered loudly about the Iron Throne's impending heir. His mother's gaze would cloud and look away for a moment, dissociating from whatever conversation his father was having while her hand over her own growing belly twitched, like his father had said something hurtful to her face.
One evening, Aemond begged Aegon to let him accompany him to the Dragonpit to visit his dragon. Sunfyre had always been strictly kept to the Dragonpit under their mother's orders, but Aegon visited him often, occasionally begging the dragonkeepers to let him ride his dragon already. Aemond tried to come with him as often as his brother would allow, learning the basic commands along with Aegon, but sat aside on his own, still waiting for the day his own dragon would hatch and bond with him. That afternoon, their half-sister, quite heavy now was surrounded by dragonkeepers speaking in the language of their father's together as they presented the princess with different clutches of eggs. He watched on in fascination, the torches of the pit reflecting off the different variety of stone-like orbs their sister was inspecting. There was one that was a rich blue, like a dark glimmering sapphire, and another pale like a moonstone. He saw Rhaenyra hovering over a vermilion green one and listening to the dragonkeepers go on before Ser Lorent Marbrand would remind the boys their mother was expecting them back at the keep.
Later that night at dinner, while his family listened to Helaena speak of her needlework lessons she had that day, Aemond built the courage to ask his father what it was Rhaenyra could have been doing at the Dragonpit with all those eggs.
"Oh yes, your sister has always been instrumental over the selection of the dragonpit's clutches for you and your siblings," he explained fondly between a sip of wine with their dinner. "She was most generous when she presented your mother with Sunfyre to place in your brothers cradle."
Looking to his mother, the two shared a moment of significance Aemond didn't know what, before she bowed her head to continue with her meal.
"Yes, let's hope our sister chooses a better one than the ones she gave Helaena and Aemond," Aegon grinned behind his forkful of mutton.
"Aegon," their mother warned.
Unlike their sister who didn't seem too phased her own beautiful silver and lavender egg remained unhatched as well, he felt himself sink in his seat. Aemond felt it was all so unjust, that Aegon's egg should be the one to hatch while he and his sister should remain unworthy.
"Still nothing children?" his father would ask.
Aemond's cheeks burned, his eyes turned down as he shook his head with Helaena.
"At my birth, there was not so many clutches of eggs laid as there are now. I was not fortunate enough to receive an egg in my cradle as you all have. Though one can still claim a dragon other ways."
When he could finally manage to lift his gaze from his lap, his father nodded back at him encouragingly, and Aemond's shame was uplifted if but for a moment at his father's reassurance.
"Viserys," his mother sighed.
"Oh Alicent, the boy has the blood of the dragon, how can you fault him for such interests? If the lad someday is bold enough, he can perhaps claim a dragon from Dragonstone."
Bold enough.
Some day.
If.
Those words were all Aemond could focus on the rest of dinner, any previous assurances from his father turned to ash. He would go on, for years, stung by this gibe.
Aemond, only a small child still, remembers the blanket, and the baby buried beneath. All the raised, excited voices, his father's loudest of all singing jovially while cradling the bundle that had been Jacaerys. He remembered wanting to approach, but would feel, and would always after, the lead grip set upon his shoulder from his mother still him.
But Aemond remembered when Lucerys Velaryon was born clearer. It was this birth that would pull the first thread to the veil young age had shielded from view of his family. Or perhaps it had started even earlier, when Jacaerys was born and he'd first watched his mother touch his sister's son's head. Aemond heard the first whispers about the Velaryon childrens' complexions, how unlike their father now both children looked. He could agree the boys had inherited their mother's fair skin, but unlike both Rhaenyra and Laenor, he would realize none of his sisters children had the silver hair he and his own siblings had. In fact, the only feature out of Rhaenyra's children that looked like either of them were the Valyrian violet eyes his younger nephew had inherited, unlike the ink black eyes of his older brother that were unexplainable. Aemond's father would speak fondly and assert how striking his youngest grandson's eyes and dark hair resembled his paternal half-Baratheon grandmother.
Watching the new babe in his sister's arms and wanting to reach out and touch, this time Rhaenyra would see him and Helaena through the crowd and beckoned them over. His half-sister would allow them to take their own peek at what the whole court was making such a fuss over. Such a tiny, delicate, pink translucent looking thing, Aemond wanted to touch it himself. He smiled at how soft his nephew's little dark wisps of hair were and watched with wide eyes when the baby's hand would reach out to touch his face in it's sleep. He tried to hush his laughter when the baby's small fingers brushes across his brows and tickled him.
When he looked over to his own mother, he felt confused to see her face was severe and a shuttering frown drooping across her features. His mother would softly instruct him to return the baby back with it's mother.
Only a fortnight later, news spread of the new prince's dragon hatching. The soonest an egg had ever hatched for any Targaryen. Aemond never felt so disappointed.
Helaena dreamed so much.
Aemond didn't know how his sister ever felt rest from her sleep when constantly muttering and tossing in different directions in her blankets the majority of nights. He would lay awake at night, listening to his sister's stirrings in the room beside his and tried to discern the things she whispered in the dark. Most nights he could hear his mother with her, shushing her and attempting to lull her back to sleep when her dreams would grow too strong and abruptly throw Helaena back into the real world.
Maesters offered draughts and Septas offered their prayers and visits. A shadow grew under his mother's eyes and the crease between her brows deepened. It was their father that seemed to know than anyone else, comforting their mother with the stories of his young aunt Daella, another Targaryen who was sensitive and also effected by the blood of the dragon more than others. Their father pulled out a private accounting that had been recorded and saved from Septon Barth, reading to his children from the inscriptions of their ancestors.
"The Targaryens were far from the most powerful of the dragonlords, and their rivals saw their flight to Dragonstone as an act of surrender, as cowardice. But Lord Aenar's maiden daughter Daenys, known forever afterward as Daenys the Dreamer, had foreseen the destruction of Valyria by fire. And when the Doom came twelve years later, the Targaryens were the only dragonlords to survive..."
"Our world can be a painful one," he would try to explain. "Some times our world bleeds into our dreams. While most whirl by us unremarkably, our dear Helaena casts a web we cannot understand and perhaps catches every dream much more vividly than the rest of us."
Aegon would roll his eyes at their strange sister, finding that none of this was inspiring any empathy like their father might have hoped. Aemond however, found it all fascinating, but also wondering if the blood of Old Valyria might be more of a curse for his sister than a gift when hearing her in the throes of a particularly startling dream. Some mornings, all she could say were the same jumble of words that made sense to no one, until mid afternoon when she finally found her way back to the present where they were all waiting for her. But sometimes it wasn't even just her dreams, but bursts of hypersensitivity when it came to being just simply touched by certain people. It was hardest on their mother, who seemed to inspire the strongest aversion from her daughter to even just the softest brushes of their mother's hand.
One night, Aemond could his mother crying with Grand Maester Mellos how Helaena's nights were getting worse. Unable to stand it any longer, while his sister whimpered what he could best describe as chants in her sleep, he slipped from his bed to peek in the next room over. From then on, Alicent would find her youngest son's presence beside his sister was better than any tonic any maester could prepare as she witnessed her son soothe his sister's mutterings with just the grasp of his hand while resting beside her.
Aegon was always too rough. Too loud. Too mean. Almost four years apart, another of Aemond's earliest wishes were not just for his parent's affections, but his older brothers as well. He was never fast enough to catch his brother whenever they played monsters-and-maidens and was always left the monster by Aegon unless their mother intervened to force his brother to take turns. But when it would be Aegon's turn to chase, he thought it always hilarious how easy it was to catch his younger brother, and even easier to push him down, and even funnier to watch how fast Aemond's tears could pool together.
Once, Aegon took one of their mother's necklaces for their game, a gold chain with dangling emeralds and pearls their father had once presented her for her nameday. The older prince would hide it too hard, and hide-the-treasure had turned into a weeping scene when Aemond couldn't find his mother's jewelry and ran pleading to her for forgiveness. His brother had gotten his arm yanked from her reprimands, her nails digging into her most troublesome son's arm as she chastised Aegon for his cruelty. But all her oldest would remember were her nails when they dug into him further the longer she shouted until he cried out.
Releasing her son's arm, Aemond watched their mother stare at now both of her tear filled sons and left for the evening without another word. Aegon would hold his arm and wipe his eyes before their mother's handmaids arrived while Aemond bit his mouth and regretted having ever made a fuss about it all.
The Velaryon children, though only still babes, even got on better with his brother than him. As the babies grew, the halls were occupied not just by him and his siblings, but the squeals and cries of their nephews. It didn't take long until the two were stumbling through the halls, chased closely by his half-sister and her husband, or a gaggle of wet nurses trying to herd the little princes in directions of safety from their destructiveness.
Eight-year-old Aegon would think the two toddler's squaking hilarious, trying to grab a hold of their chubby arms to drag along with him up and down the Red Keep's halls and Helaena enjoyed earning giggles from singing songs. Their side of the keep would grow incredibly loud with his new little brother's cries and his nephews' little shrieks. Aemond would try his hardest to seek out time away from being pulled at and run circles around by, or even batting away Aegon's constant poking to instigate a reaction from him. But the eldest Targaryen was always too crass to be comical most times and only suited to irritate Aemond to eventual anger. While his brother always struggled to focus his attentions during lessons, Aemond would rather enjoy them. It was a reprieve in the quiet library or their mother's study away from loud babbling princes. Being able to read and think in peace meant finding small alcoves of solitude whenever he could.
When Aegon heard of Aemond's visits to Helaena's rooms during her more vivid dreams, he'd laugh about it way too much and tease his little brother loudly in front of anyone who would listen.
"Perhaps our baby nephews need a cuddle as well," he'd laugh. "I'm sure you could squeeze in the cradle brother!"
This would be the first time Jacaerys would laugh along with his uncle at Aemond's expense. Only still very small, the boy probably didn't even understand what made it so funny, but Aegon's obnoxious snorts of laughter would spur the little boy to join in. He was just a toddler, but Aemond still flushed in embarrassment that only made his brother laugh harder.
After Aegon's humiliations, Aemond would hear his sisters dreams, but would not always go to her.
And he suspected their mother knew why and held a noticeable resentment for Aegon afterwards and ever since.
Sometimes in the gardens, when his mother shooed him from his hiding spots out for fresh air, it wasn't uncommon to catch his nephews galloping about the courtyards, causing havoc no matter which direction they turned or what they touched. Lucerys was the loudest. Painstakingly so. Sometimes Aemond had to bury his ears under his own hands just to block out all the screams the boy made. And not only were they loud on their own, but now had their hatchling dragons along wherever they went. Watching the two boys run and tumble with their barely cat-sized dragons pained Aemond since his half-sister presented each of her new babes with a freshly hatched dragon to the court.
The dragons lived beside the boys' cradles, especially his younger nephew, whose dragon might as well have been his littermate and wailed if he couldn't sleep beside him. Rhaenyra had taken to calling them Vermax and Arrax, after the two Valyrian brother-gods. The oldest, Jacaerys's dragon's wings were pale orange with bright gold eyes and scales like jade stones, was growing fast his father would remark. Arrax on the other hand, even though born only a few days after Lucerys and not much younger than his brother, was a much smaller dragon than his brother that the dragonkeepers worried he was failing to thrive as he should be. But even though small, he was beautiful to behold with opalescent white scales, excluding the more spiked scales from his spade and up his tail and spine to his still miniature horns were a bright scarlet. Lucerys and Arrax screeched and sqwuaked at one another, Rheanyra teasing her son spoke dragon and had no desire to speak when he could already talk to his hatchling.
It wasn't until Lucerys would grow older and still had not officially spoken did this stop being humorous to his family.
"Can the boy not speak yet?" Alicent had inquired in exasperation at dinner one night while hearing Lucerys' cries from down the halls Rhaenyra and Laenor took turns walking his nephews down. "He sounds more beast than child!"
It was harsh, his father censured their mother and waved away her exasperations, but what she said was true and was a question everyone was wondering. Now almost five years of age, Jacaerys and Daeron were speaking sentences and beginning to learn their letters and numbers. Now after his third name day, Lucerys had yet to even say his first word. Many times had Aemond walked by the little Velaryon boy sitting beside his parents and maesters as they tried to get him to mimic the simplest of sounds. He watched at family dinners his half-sister try to judge what her youngest would be screaming about, sometimes able to close his fists and point to what he wanted, but most times the boy could shake the whole table with his fits. It was all Lucerys did it seemed. Aegon would plug his ears and groan, rolling his eyes, or make a joke of it, asking anyone around if they wanted to make wages if his nephew could reach an octave higher in his screeches that day.
During all this, Aemond was still so absorbed in his need to find something among the texts of the Red Keep's library to help hatch his dragon egg, he would admit he was much more irate than usual, growing frustrated with the increased lack of time for himself amongst the crowded Keep these days. It would be on this day in the library, Lucerys would be on one his walks around the castle, and was known to enjoy pulling books out from their shelves to watch his nursemaids put them all back.
Sighing that his reading was interrupted, Aemond felt especially agitated when little Lucerys walked to him and immediately would grab for his books he had opened to specific pages he wished to return to. Tired of the children's constant intrusion on him, Aemond would push off his nephews hands rougher than necessary, causing the wild haired little boy to startle in surprise before crying hard enough to cause his maids to rush him away. His conscience twisted in guilt the second he'd done it and Lucerys was taken away before he could apologize, but not before seeing the tears running down his nephew's cheeks as he was ushered away.
Aemond never gave too much thought to Lucerys' crying other than it growing tiresome to listen to. His mother had told him a baby crying was just for what it couldn't ask for, but he found himself noticing it wasn't just a toddler's tantrum like he'd watched Daeron or Jacaerys have. Lucerys would cry, fat genuine tears as he'd stare at everyone around him while he'd scream, disconcerting Aemond the closer he watched. It was as if he was crying out, literally screaming at everyone around him but no one understanding just what he needed. He could see it also pained Rhaenyra deeply as well, to be unable to comprehend what it was her son needed and lost in how to console him.
The next time he'd be alone sitting against a tree in the gardens on a particularly nice day that baited him from the castle, Jacerys and Lucerys were also out enjoying the sun as well with Vermax and Arrax. While chasing each other and their dragons back and forth inbetween their servant's skirts, Aemond laughed to himself while he watched all their wetnurses scatter to try and grab for them to slow down. He froze when he saw his youngest nephew notice him watching, and Aemond felt even worse about himself when Lucerys waved. It was very much more subdued than usual, and instead of approaching for his book like Aemond had already began anticipating having to pull from his hands, Lucerys instead turned back to his brother and continued playing.
There were a few other similar instances that would occur, affirming to Aemond the little prince was timid in approaching him after his previous frustration with him in the library. But his obsession to figure out how to hatch his egg was all consuming and didn't allow for too much empathy to disrupt him. A deep indigo with golden veins that reminded him of lightening striking across a midnight sky, he yearned to see the dragon it could someday produce and fantasized about how it's cobalt scales might gleam or if it's fire would match or be golden instead. Aegon's egg hatched even before Aemond was born, while now Daeron's egg had now finally cracked open, he yearned for the bond already growing between everyone else and their hatchlings. He was dedicated to trying everything to get his egg to hatch, that even though six years old, would still hold the orb to himself under the covers with him every night.
But as time went on and still not a single disturbance, Aegon would grow to tease him even more for still holding onto his egg for so long. While his brothers and nephews frequented the Red Keep with their baby dragons, he would toil endlessly behind book pages to figure out how to obtain a dragon of his own, flipping through parchments and scripts to seek out how to obtain a relationship he could only enviously desire from afar.
While escorted to visit his parents before bed one night, he would walk towards the doorway to the royal chambers when hearing the raised voices of his mother and father.
"Alicent…I confess, I don't know what it is you would have me do…"
"The boy is simple Viserys…the princess needs to come to a conclusion on what to do about the boy."
"It is still too early, give him a chance-"
"A chance? It has been three years now. Is it not hurting the boy to stave off further interventions? There are places he might go, to receive an education more suited to him, where people of his condition may find a place-"
"My grandson's place is at my court. And that is all I have left to say on the matter, Alicent."
Before his father's guard could announce his arrival, Aemond felt sick to hear of his mother's suggestion to send his nephew away. But what could a second son, no more than a mere child himself hope to do about it?
All his life Aemond felt like a wraith drifting in the background of the Targaryens, but it would appear he wasn't the only one left estranged from the rest of his family. Strangely, it was Lucerys who Aemond would find he had more in common with than any of his other family members; he began to understand Lucerys was also begging for understanding. His half-sister and her maids could sometimes figure out what it was his nephew wanted, but most times Lucerys's screams were met with hands in the air unable to figure out what it was the prince needed and could only try to placate him or take him away back to his nursery entirely.
His mother would ask him to collect his younger brother for her some days now that he was older, and one of these times on his way to the nursery where the younger children were brought to lessons with their Septas, he walked in on Maester Orwyle trying to get his nephew to pronounce a few words slowly. As Aemond listened before collecting his baby brother, the maester's voice would turn harsher than what Aemond believed should be directed at the little prince. At Lucerys' every failure, the Maester grew more disgruntled at the boy's inability to imitate him correctly.
The longer Aemond watched on, he realized the more Lucerys was unable to pronounce his words correctly, the ruler the Maester held would come down across the boy's knuckles. Watching his nephew's little hands clench every time they were struck, his lips wobbling and eyes welling up with more tears as Maester Orwyle corrected him sharply, a bubbling anger stirred beneath Aemond's skin.
"Ku-kee," Owyle enunciated.
"Tu-tee."
"No my Prince! Kuuk-EE."
"Tuuh-hee..."
A little growl came from the corner of the room. Arrax was watching. Though he was no bigger than a cat, his body was tensed and his head perched high and still as Aemond saw Arrax's tail slash behind him with Orwyle's next rap on Lucerys' hand.
"I think that's enough for today," Aemond grumbled from the doorway he had lingered behind, stopping whatever cruel lesson this was before the Maester was mauled by his student's dragon.
Startled, Orwyle would turn around to address him. "My Prince," he bowed. "Your sister, Princess Rhaenyra and Ser Laenor have implored for my help with getting Prince Lucerys' words to develop."
"I hardly think bringing my nephew to tears is what my sister requested." he replied tersely. "I'll take them, thank you Maester Orwyle, you're excused."
Even though still only a young child, Aemond outranked Orwyle far too much for him to disagree and resigned to bowing before departing the nursery. Now stuck with both children, Aemond sighed, resolving himself that now he had to find his half-sister as well before being allowed to return to his own activities.
"Where's your brother at anyways?" he huffed, finding it strange to find the prince without his other half. When Lucerys only answered in his typical undiscernible babbles, he felt his usual annoyance with his nephew rise to the surface, wondering why he even bothered asking him at all. But the little wild haired boy reached up, taking a few of his fingers and holding them in his smaller hands. Looking down into Lucerys' wide dark purple eyes, his ill temper melted away as the Velaryon boy smiled up at him, his tears wiped away on his sleeves and his wet lashes the only remaining evidence he had been upset.
Gingerly rubbing the little boy's red knuckles, Aemond smiled back and was warmed to see what a change a beaming grin made across his nephew's features. Lucerys was a far contrast from his other Targaryen relatives, like his brother Jacaerys, he was anything but the portrait of a silver-haired Valyrian prince. Lucerys had tangled mud-colored hair his wetnurses were constantly running after with brushes, and a heavy splash of freckles dotted across his entire face practically. Even his smile was obnoxious, the boy's mouth stretched back as far as it could possibly go to show off every single baby tooth he possessed, causing his large two front teeth to stand out more than they already achieved on their own. His sister's son was far from a Targaryen vision, but was so much more lovelier smiling.
Aemond remembers from then, he would forever after feel inclined to assist in assuring Lucerys Velaryon's happiness.
Aemond began trying to find readings on speech between his other studies. It was only a brief distraction from the disappointment of his unhatched egg, but he found himself slipping down a rabbit hole of research when he came to realize there was surprisingly very limited instruction on how to get one to speak. When bringing this up to Grand Maester Mellos, who was in charge of his siblings lessons and ciriculum, the old maester hummed in thought and nodded in agreement. "It is a complex subject my Prince. To rouse words is to inspire one's motivation to communicate. Sometimes no one can quite explain why it may take some longer than others to instigate that inclination."
So it became Aemond's secret side project, theorizing on different ways he could get the little prince to speak. At first he tried cupping Lucerys' hands over his mouth, to feel and see his lips move as Aemond enunciated basic letters, trying to urge the boy to imitate him, but he always just seemed to think it was a game and rather climb all over his uncle instead. As he tried to persist in this direction, modeling words and exaggerating his mouth, Aemond soon found his attempts were no better than their maester's and resigned his efforts after seeing Lucerys beginning to grow frustrated with him.
It wasn't until Aemond stumbled across a book by Maester Josmyn Westerling, more of an autobiography of his deaf son and how he would discover learning did not require hearing. Now Aemond wasn't convinced his nephew's issue was that he couldn't hear, but the methods Josmyn would describe would prove to be a groundbreaking foundation for accommodating Lucerys's frustrations. Aemond would show his nephew small gestures while withholding various toys or snacks, he would encourage the little boy to pull his hands to himself, trying to prompt Lucerys to ask for what he wanted with his hands instead of always finding himself failing with his mouth. He found that after his nephew's initial struggle to try copying his motions and was finally given what he wanted, Lucerys received whatever object he desired much quicker when he copied his uncle's signs. And just from this, everyone amongst the Red Keep would note how much quieter and content the youngest Prince seemed. Lucerys's tantrums were cut shorter as their family and servants were finally able to understand his needs a bit clearer.
To Aemond's disgust, since he'd never told anyone what he was doing, Maester Orwyle would take all the credit for Lucerys's progress. Too worried his mother would be angry with him for dedicating so much time to his half-sister's children, Aemond wouldn't admit it was in fact he who helped decrease his nephew's fits and outbursts.
"Yes, thank you Maester Orwyle. Perhaps also, my son's new fascination with the keep's library has influenced his improvements as well."
Sitting with his eyes to his parchment, he listened as their lesson was briefly interrupted by his half-sister deciding to pay their lessons a visit. Jacaerys and Lucerys jumped at the excuse to get up and Aegon huffed in relief.
"How long you think she can keep the bat talking?" his brother grumbled under his breath. "Gods if I have to listen to him blather on about Garlan the Grower any longer I'll order Sunfyre to set me afire and be done with it."
"It's Garth the Gardener," Aemond rolled his eyes.
"Whatever," Aegon scoffed.
Daring to look over, Rhaenyra seemed to have been waiting, her eyes catching his over Orwyle's head. It was kind, and he hadn't expected it so could only default to drawing his gaze back down to his work.
He smiled to himself later though, and remained silent about any participation he had in her son's developments.
Aemond was still a small boy himself, his attentions were often pulled elsewhere as he grew more desperate to get his egg to hatch, so his progress with his nephew left him to drift from his efforts with his speech for a time. It was Lucerys that would be persistent with him. Rhaenyra's handmaids would apologize whenever the little boy came storming into the library during Aemond's coveted alone time, explaining the prince was adamant about running to the keep's middle bailey where his nephew was smart enough to know where to search for him. It would appear, even without words, the Velaryon boy sought out his company and it was hard to dismiss him when Lucerys curled his hands for him, the way Aemond had taught him.
So in between the responsibilities of Aemond's lessons, his duties to spend time with his irritably large family, and his extracurricular studies, he would continue to familiarize Lucerys with other signs. Now when he was hungry, his nephew need not cry and throw himself about, but instead pointed to his mouth to let others around him know. When he began to notice Lucerys signing for food, but shoving it away and crying still, Aemond confessed he was discouraged the little boy wasn't really comprehending as much as he'd hoped he'd been. It wasn't until it dawned on him, and once Aemond taught Lucerys to mimic the gesture as if he were taking a sip from a glass, his episodes were mostly put to an end. Though very changed, Aemond recognized hand signs were still very limiting and he tried his best to teach his nephew how to request for his daily activities.
All his time with his sister's son wasn't just teaching. While Aemond watched his siblings struggle to play with Lucerys, unable to explain the rules of any games or have any kind of conversation with, he saw how the boy slowly stopped trying to keep up with the other children and lingered behind to play alone with only his baby dragon most days. The boy's older brother seemed to be the only other person who wouldn't leave the boy in solitude, unlike Aemond's own brothers, Jacareys would stop in their games to search for his little brother whenever Lucerys was noticed drifting too far from the litter of children. But despite Lucerys not understand how to include himself, Aemond could see he still very much desired to be, and his older brother tried his best to bring the prince into their play. Aemond had no one to drag him back into play, in fact, he believed his brothers thought it easier with Aemond retreated back inside the castle to his books. But when he'd withdraw, on occasion the little prince would convince his maids to take him in search of his uncle.
"Apologies my Prince, he's been quite insistent to climb the chamber steps. We thought he might concede back to his lessons after a break."
"Indeed," Aemond sighed, resigning to put away his readings. "Have you tried a lap around the outer yard?"
As he reserved to save his place in the book lying across the desk he'd been occupying, Lucerys came over to reach for the large book. Reaching to quickly pull it back, he hesitated before deciding to angle the book down to the boy, showing him it was just pages of words and nothing he'd find interesting. Bracing himself to have to pull the text back before his nephew might damage the very old parchments barely still bound together as it was, the little boy reached to touch his hands across the pages, tracing his small fingers over the words instead.
"It's called Unnatural History," Aemond said, watching Lucerys's eyes scanning across the text, "Septon Barth writes about the dragons of Old Valyria, he speaks of bloodmages and wyverns..." Trailing off, Aemond presumed the small boy neither knew nor cared, but found his nephew looking up at him when he stopped, amythest eyes staring wide and waiting for him to continue.
Rather than try to give the three year old a synopsis of what he himself already struggled to read through, Aemond would wave for Lucerys to climb up and sit with him. Flipping back a few pages, he read the book to Lucerys to the best of his ability. It was a challenging read for Aemond, despite the maester's praises at how advanced in his reading abilities were for his age, but the little prince would sit silently and stare at the book while he read aloud, his hands tracing over drawn diagrams of dragons from only a handful of illustrations. It was the longest he'd ever witnessed Lucerys completely silent. Rhaenyra's appointed nursemaids seemed to realize this as well. So much so, that when the prince became especially overstimulated, he could hear the little boy from the halls before he ever entered through the library doors and grew accustomed to his nephew's maids inquiring if Aemond was up to reading for the day.
It would also be during one of these times, while rereading Fires of the Freehold and copying his own notes on the book to go over to try better understanding later, Aemond noticed Lucerys wanting to deviate from his huge gaudy readings. Slipping off his uncle's legs, he'd began to grab books off the shelves to urge him to read instead. Sometimes it was purely to look at maps or illustrations, growing his own pile of books he desired Aemond to read to him whenever he spared the patience to deviate from his own readings. The boy would point, blinking up at him in wonderment, not needing to speak to get his uncle to label things for him. Still stuck on hand gestures with Lucerys, Aemond would get another idea to help the young Velaryon boy to communicate.
Trying his best with a quill and parchment, Aemond was far from having a hand in any arts but did his best to draw his own pictures. He started with a simple drawing of a book. When Lucerys came to him next, he would hold up the drawing with his own book in his other hand.
"See here?" he pointed, enunciating and tapping the illustration with his finger, "Book. Lucerys, would you want to read a book?"
Pointing again to his drawing, he would also wave the book he had with him, watching his nephew's little head turning back and forth between the two in his hands. Aemond smiled, practically watching the cogs in the little prince's mind turning over what it was his uncle was trying to tell him. Satisfied he just had the Velaryon boy's attention long enough to get this far, Aemond grabbed Lucerys's hand to help him, using his own hand to get the boy's little hand to point at his drawing this time. Handing over the book immediately after getting Lucerys to point at what he was trying to show him, Aemond would repeat it with him a few times before his Rhaenyra's son finally seemed to grasp the concept of pointing to the picture to get the desired item. As he saw this slowly grow more successful with Lucerys, he'd try to think of what else he was capable of drawing, doing his best to sketch a few foods, a chamber pot, a horrible stick drawing of what was supposed to be Lucerys's mother, and a dragon.
Aemond would be a liar if he said he wasn't highly pleased with himself when Lucerys began to be able to point and identify the items his uncle labeled for him. He was always best at getting the dragon right. Soon Aemond would cut up pieces of parchment with his drawing, allowing the boy to run up to whoever was around to thrust at whoever was around. Aemond flushed in embarrassment when he watched his half-sister try to figure out the plate of food he had attempted to draw that Lucerys was jumping at her with. When she looked down to see her littlest pointing to an open mouth of baby teeth he would chomp at her, Rhaenyra's attention trailed to him.
"I-I thought it might help him better…" he stuttered, looking away to anticipate his her reaction.
Taking the pictures he had given Lucerys and looking through them, Rhaenyra looked up to regard her younger brother thoughtfully.
"This is very clever Aemond. Perhaps a maester's chain is in your future, little brother."
Surprised, he looked up to see Rhaenyra regard him with a small smile, but nodded at her acknowledgement before she collected her son for dinner. While he listened to their footsteps fade down the halls, Aemond felt the smile that had grown grow stale.
Like the comment his father had made, if he was bold enough, Rhaenyra's words stole any accomplishment Aemond had felt. He was a prince of the realm, his father King of the Seven Kingdoms. Surely there was something more promising destined for him than a maester? Putting away his books for the night, Aemond longed for a life of adventure, soaring amongst the skies like a real dragonrider should. Not a life behind the pages of books, stuck like he felt already.
"I know he is still behind Father, but if my goodmother wasn't so set on focusing only on what my son isn't doing, you would see Lucerys has much improved."
"I know my dear, I just wonder if perhaps further measures should start being taken soon?"
Aemond had come to bring his nephews to their mother, having been charged to bring the boys to help the servants who were all busy cleaning up the disaster Aegon had caused in the halls with Sunfyre, who he had smuggled out from the dragonpit only for the dragon to set afire some of his mother's most treasured tapestries. Before bringing the boys into their father's study after hearing the beginning of their conversation, Aemond held the two back, earning both heads to swivel up at him in confusion but remained silent as their uncle listened on with a tight lip.
"Further measures?" He could hear the coldness creep up in Rhaenyra's voice.
"Alicent suggested perhaps sending him to a maester from the citadel that specializes in such matters-"
"Specializes in what matters?"
There was a long pause before a hand fell on Aemond's shoulder, startling him from his eavesdropping.
"The young princes shouldn't be listening to such private conversations," said Ser Rickard Thorne, his father's kingsguard that Aemond almost forgot had been escorting them.
"Prince Aemond has made much progress these past few moons-"
"Yes my dear girl, but mayhaps these pictures could be discouraging the boy from actual words?"
Ser Rickard would announce them, ending the conversation they had overheard. Thanking him, Rhaenyra would briskly excuse herself, scooping her youngest son into her arms while grabbing the other's hand to pull along with her. Peering into their father's rooms, he could hear the heavy sigh come from inside along with another pained groan as Viserys settled himself down into a seat, a pain across his face Aemond wasn't sure was from maneuvering himself to sit gingerly through his body's aches or from his conversation with Aemond's eldest sister. Perhaps both.
Before Aemond could melt back into the hallway, to his surprise his father would call after him.
"Your influence on your young nephew has not gone unnoticed," the King told his son, still trying to adjust into a position that was comfortable and causing his father to sound strained, short of breath from discomfort.
Unsure what to say, his mouth hung open trying to think what to say until Viserys continued when he didn't receive a response. "Your sister affirms it has been quite helpful with getting the boy to communicate better…."
Bowing his head in thought, Aemond studied his father while he seemed lost in his own thoughts. A father that was never unkind and openhanded with his family and subjects, Aemond watched him much at court and feasts and could never find a reason anyone could ever say anything unfavorable about his father. Except himself. His whole life he watched his father embrace his half-sister often, clap his hands in good nature over council members shoulders, and bounce Jacaerys on his knee while sitting the iron throne, all things he had never done for any of his other actual children. At least not to him. Aemond wasn't sure what he wanted from his father, but he never seemed to obtain enough of Viserys to merit any special significance amongst all his children and grandchildren. And his mother made it even worse to emphasize with her frowns of despair growing harder and more snarled from embitterment whenever she watched her husband show affection towards Rhaenyra and her family.
And now his father was asking his thoughts.
"You spend much time with the boy. Do you think him capable of speaking someday, son?"
Stunned his father would ask him, Aemond opened and closed his mouth for a few more moments, wishing to think of something of significant to say.
"I think so," was all he could think to say after his pause had grown too long. "He may only scream at his dragon…but he does want to say much…y-you can tell…"
Nodding, Viserys would peer a little closer at Aemond who was trying his hardest not to shuffle his feet under his father's stare he did not usually have for so long.
"As thankful as we all are for your help with your nephew, your mother still wishes it not impede on your studies."
When Aemond looked up from his feet, it was his father who would look away this time. His marks were always high according to all the maester's appraisals, and had never once been under question before.
"Yes, your Grace," was all he could squeeze out between his chest tingling with a hurt he couldn't name.
After dinner, it was routine for Aemond and his siblings to stay in their mother's chambers before bed. Most night he would sit beside a fire the servants kept stoked for him while Helaena would sit beside him. If she wasn't practicing her needlework or flipping through books of her own on identifying different species of insects, she would sit with him and watch the fires lick around his egg he would place in his mother's hearth.
Although prone to avoid being touched, Aemond found it especially endearing when she would lean against him. On these occasions, Aemond would grow used to Helaena whispering the same phrases she repeated over and over when they were together while she stared into the flames with him.
"Shores of blood…a kiss of fire… salt and fire, fire and blood…a dance aboves storms…"
No matter how many times he tried to ask, she could never explain to him what it meant. Only that she saw him above bloody shores in a storm, but no matter how hard he tried to urge her, she claimed she could never reach him in time.
"In time? In time for what?"
He stopped asking when she never had an answer to give he could understand.
Aemond watched the flames embrace his lapis stone egg, the timber crackling around it while he stared, willing it with all his prayers to hatch.
One night he was sitting in front of the hearth, their mother would finally appear with Aegon to collect the rest for bed. Still scalding hot to touch, Aemond wouldn't take his egg with him on nights when he tried to incubate it in flames. He had read how successful Dragonstone was at hatching clutches from its volcanic dragonmount and hoped to emulate the same heat they would need. As the dragonkeepers would secure his egg from the flames for the night, Aemond caught a glimpse of his brother watching. Aegon smirked back when noticed, bidding his family goodnight abnormally kind that it made him uncomfortable.
The next morning, when Aemond would visit the dragon pit for his egg, the dragonkeepers would all look at themselves in apprehension.
"Prince Aegon came to collect your egg for you this morning, my Prince."
His heart sinking, Aemond ran from the pit in search of his brother and whatever idiotic stunt he was trying to pull. When he found Ser Willas Fell to ask his brother's whereabouts.
"Prince Aegon expressed his desire to fish today my Prince," Ser Willas informed him. "I believe he went with Ser Steffon to the River Gate with your brother and nephews."
Begging Fell to escort him to meet his brother, he could tell Ser Willas was unsure about the wild panicked look that was probably Aemond's face. "My Prince, is everything alright? Should I send for your queen mother-"
"No," Aemond gulped, still not sure what his brother was playing at and not wanting to get the whole lot of them in trouble, he shook his head. "I- he just has my work for lessons, Grand Maester Mellos will be wanting to look over later and I don't want him ruining them."
It was feeble, and Aemond could hardly listen to himself lie so terribly, but it was the only thing that sounded believable, his brother causing trouble but not to the extent of having the whole Kingsguard searching for him. Nodding, Ser Willas arranged to have his position covered while he escorted Aemond from the keep with a message to their mother he would be joining his brothers and nephews for the day by the river.
It was a long, arduous trip through the city, it felt longer than it should've and cursed every interruption to his litter on the trek through the streets.
Ser Willas would spot Ser Steffon Darklyn as they made their way out of the city gates to the banks of the Blackwater Rush. Aemond could make out his brother chasing the younger children back and forth along the river, their screams and laughter heard from over the swift current even from yards away as they made their way over.
"Some fishing spot!" Ser Willas called. But before the guards could say a single word to one another, Aemond tore off, interrupting the game they had all been playing by the bank of the River.
"Where is it?" He demanded.
A smile burst across Aegon's face, as if he was trying his best to keep his lips closed but failing.
"Whatever do you mean-?"
"Where's my egg, Aegon?" Aemond practically screamed, ignoring his brother's act of confusion and halting everything around them.
"Is it really an egg though? It's been years brother, surely it is just stone by now."
"Just give it back!" His voice shook and he cringed as Aegon heard it too, raising his brows at how upset Aemond was growing and doubling over to laugh about it.
Vermax and Arrax had begun to growl, uncertain like their bonded owners watching on. He could faintly hear their father's guards calling to them, but the blood rushing in his ears and the loud river were blocking everything else out except for Aegon.
"Now brother, no need to get so upset!" Aegon raised his hands, as if personally wounded, like it was all some comical performance. "I only thought of a means to help you."
Struggling to keep his fists at his sides from shaking, he bit his lip to keep the growing lump in his throat down, willing with all the strength he possessed not to allow droplets to fall from his eyes that had begun to water against his consent. Aegon ran, as did everyone else with him, closer to the riverbank where it looked they had set their cloaks and fishing rods for the day. Aemond's breath stilled when he saw his brother pull forth the twilight-blue egg he recognized as his, presenting it dramatically in both hands high up in the air as he could.
"Our sister is always going on about salt and shores," Aegon stepped further away as Aemond rushed forward to grab the egg back from his brother before he could do anything else. But still much taller than him, Aegon easily held the egg out of Aemond's reach no matter how hard he tried to jump, all while breathlessly laughing at his younger brother and how successful this jest of his was.
"Perhaps it is not the flames you must throw it into but the sea!"
Aemond dove when Aegon tossed the egg over their heads, but he fell to the ground with empty hands while they all witnessed his egg disappear into the white foam of the river. He heard himself scream over the Kingsguards' yells, someone grabbed him from diving in after it, everything else turned deafeningly silent while the only thing echoing now were his sobs.
Other guards were called for, someone picked him up, he didn't know who but he knew he buried his face into their cloak as he bawled the whole way back to the Red Keep. Placed in his chambers, he curled his hands into fists on the bench he was sitting on, told to await his parents while tears continued to stream down his red face, although silent by now.
His egg was gone.
The Blackwater Rush was deep and it's current notoriously fast. Known to drown even experienced swimmers, Aemond prayed to the gods perhaps his egg was heavy enough not to be carried into the bay and swept into the narrow sea to remain lost on the bottom of the ocean floor. Though the waters were so dark, Aemond also despaired, that it could be terribly difficult for someone to even see his dark egg on the sea floor.
His mother eventually came for him, and he ran to her without any further thought but to bury his head in her skirts. He never felt more upset and comforted when she kneeled to gather him in her arms. He was too big to pick up, but not too old to fit in her embrace.
"He's gone mother. He was supposed to be my friend and Aegon threw him in the Blackwater," he sobbed.
"I'm so sorry my love," she sighed into his hair. "Your brother…I know it can feel very painful when those closest to us abuse the love and friendship you have with one another-"
"I don't love him! And he's not my friend!" Aemond shouted, louder than he ever had at his mother before and he could see it startled her as much as it did him. "My dragon…he was supposed to be my friend, my only friend…"
He fell back into sobs and Alicent could only press her son back to her and allow him his tears.
Needless to say, Aegon was reprimanded more severely than he ever had been before. Even their father had become involved, commanding the egg be searched for and retrieved. Word had already spread of his egg being lost in the Blackwater Rush, sending not just the men his father ordered to search the river but even smallfolk were now diving into Blackwater Bay in search of the dragon egg. Despite his father being furious and deeply concerned someone else might find the egg and steal away with it, Kings Landing's ports were closed and waters guarded while the Blackwater was searched. Yet still no reports were heard of finding anything of value in the river or the harbor where the river might have carried it to. Blackwater Bay's trading was at a standstill, sailors and merchants growing impatient waiting to get to their ships or to port delayed goods.
Aegon's privileges were immediately taken away and confined to his chambers. Aemond could hear their mother and father's voices from his own room. He opened his door, intending to creep down the hall to listen easier but remembered his father's guards. Outside his brothers room door Ser Criston Cole and Ser Erryk (or Arryk? Aemond could never guess right) Cargyll turned to see him unexpectedly emerge.
"It was only stone father! I wouldn't have chucked it if I actually thought it would-"
"It was cruel!" his mother snapped over his brother, "You knew what that egg meant to him! How could you plan something so malicious to your own blood? He is your brother and you'd treat him no more than a court fool!"
"The young Prince should return to bed," Ser Criston said softly from his post, but Aemond lingered.
"Not only were your actions foolish, do you understand what consequences might come from this? Say the egg is retrieved, but not by my men, but sold across the narrow sea? Do you realize the repercussions our house would face, if that egg were to hatch outside of the hands of Targaryens? What then?"
His father's voice rose gradually, his usual eloquence grew labored with unfamiliar vexation that wasn't usually directed towards his children. Aemond felt himself want to shrink away from even down the corridor. His father's sigh was loud and heavy, then it was silent for a time until his mother spoke, her voice dripping with more disenchantment than he'd ever heard it before.
"You will apologize to your brother as earnestly as you can bring yourself to be with whatever integrity I have tried my hardest to instill on you. What you have done is irreparable, but you will do what you can to take responsibility for your actions."
"Mother he can get another egg-!"
"He wanted that egg! He was attached and waiting for it! You think your bond with Sunfyre would give you some sense of empathy!"
"I've never known an egg to hatch after six years," his father sighed. Aemond knew from outside the door, from his father's change in tone, he was trying to placate his mother who was sounding more upset at how aloof Aegon was about the whole incident. "Not that it excuses you from the cruelty you have played upon your younger brother, but the egg would not have hatched Alicent."
He was stunned, frozen to hear his father, the man who had always smiled encouragingly at him whenever he saw his son carrying around his dragon egg, agree with his brother. Aemond felt betrayed to hear it talked amongst the three of them so familiarly, like it was a known fact to all.
"Perhaps now he can accept it and move on. There are plenty of other dragons and even more clutches of eggs Aemond may claim."
"Yes, father! That was but my intention-"
"Enough!"
Ser Criston approached him, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder.
"I shall escort you back my Prince."
Awaiting Aemond to follow him back to his room, he relented and walked like he was hallowed out. Everything he held dear felt spat out before him, only for him to observe the rot of it all he hadn't seen before. Aemond had cried all day, the skin around his eyes sensitive and puffy from how much he rubbed them, but he felt out of tears even after hearing such devastating news. Could he feel numb and imploding at the same time?
When they arrived to his doors, Ser Criston opened them for him but before Aemond could disappear the Kingsguard stopped him.
"You'll find siblings can be difficult, my Prince. They can be our first partners in life, and sometimes even our first rivals. They are of your blood, but can feel like your greatest enemy."
Aemond stopped in his doorway. He was not usually regarded too often by his father's guard and was surprised to hear from him now.
"Did you have brothers?" He asked, his voice scratched.
"Many, my Prince. And was much further from inheritance than a second son."
Placing his heavy hand back on his shoulder, Ser Criston patted him and his usual austere appearance smiled softly.
"But blood is blood. One day the young princes will have need of one another, and loyalty can only truly be found between family. True family."
Leaving that thought with him, Ser Criston ushering Aemond back to his chambers. At first, Aemond was angry. While he waited in his room, all he could think about was every smile, every pat on his shoulder, every encouragement he had ever received from his family when his egg was ever under discussion. He really did feel like the biggest fool. Where were his family's loyalty then? Where was their loyalty to him? But the worst part was, it was his brother who seemed the most honest in the whole scenario, even if he had only done it to torture him, while his mother and father were the ones who made him no better than Mushroom. Aemond felt betrayed in a dozen different ways. They had all already known his egg wouldn't hatch.
By the time his mother returned to him, it was very late and he had already laid down in his bed, but was unable to sleep. He heard her hesitate as she approached, thinking him asleep and remained still, he closed his eyes and allowed her to believe he was. She softly approached his bed and he could feel her presence over him, studying him and he had to try his hardest to remain still and convincing. Aemond felt her stroke his hair, something that had always been comforting until only an hour before. He wanted to curl away, but then he'd have to unleash the rippling thunder that was building beneath his chest. His mother would pull away, but instead of leaving like he had hoped, he heard her walk softly around his quarters for some time, not uttering a sound that Aemond might be able to distinguish what it was she was doing. Finally, he heard the very faintest pull of a chair, his mother being careful not to wake him as she sat down and continued to remain in his room.
Eventually, Aemond dared to turn slowly from his position on his bed, peeking as carefully as he could over his shoulder. His mother was sitting at his desk, staring across his room, and at first he thought she would turn to spot him immediately but her gaze was so deep in thought she didn't notice him watching. His eyes drifted to his desk, where she sat with her hands clutched together. There he watched his mother was not just holding her hands, but was picking at her fingers. Aemond almost gasped aloud as he saw his mother ripping at the beds of her nails, pulling at her thumb's cuticle so roughy he could see it was bleeding. But his mother only continued to stare off into the opposite wall, unfazed about the injury she was causing herself.
Sitting up, he moved as cautiously as she had, as if not to awake her this time. Approaching his mother, he could see how distressed her pretty face had turned. A usually serious woman, Aemond wouldn't say she was joyless, but his mother despaired a lot and it showed so much it even pained him at times to watch. All the anger he had wanted to throw at her instantly evaporated as he approached her, uncaring if she knew he was awake anymore. His approach snapped her from whatever deep distracting thoughts she had been having, and wasn't fast enough to pull her hands from sight before Aemond placed his over her bleeding fingers.
She looked stricken, frozen under his soft hands as her eyes watered. He wished she wouldn't look so ashamed he had seen. And he wished to protect her from whatever it was that made her feel the need to make herself bleed. Her lip trembled, and she finally pulled her hand away to wipe her eyes.
Before Aemond could feel stung, his mother grabbed for him once more and they held one another for a long time before he eventually fell asleep.
The next day, Aemond awoke back in his bed alone, and would never bring up his egg to anyone ever again.
Aemond stayed to himself the next two days. His mother urged him to break his fast or share dinner with the rest of his family, but he begged her to allow him a while longer to himself. Even though his brother's company was the last thing he wanted, it didn't stop him from feeling lonely. His mother was kind enough to bring his meals to his room and even brought a few books she and Grand Maester Mellos thought might lighten his spirits. It wasn't until dinner was brought to him the second day, his mother would inform him his self isolation would be at an end and he would continue with his daily routines.
Brooding about the next day and how he would suffer through it, Aemond was confused to hear Ser Steffon announce his half-sister wished to visit him. Stuttering to let her in, Aemond was confused to see his mother at first.
Looking down for a moment, she seemed unsure what to say. Aemond impulsively looked to her hands crossed in front of her, wondering if she was picking at them again, but she caught him and clasped her hands together quickly instead.
"Princess Rhaenyra informed me your nephew, Prince Lucerys has been requesting to see you and thought it might bring you some cheer," she informed him temperately.
He could tell it was not an idea she would usually indulge her good-daughter. Aemond knew discontent was always between the two, no matter how small of an interaction. He also thought it endearing, for his mother to have set aside whatever differences she had against his half-sister to allow this in hopes that it might in fact bring him some happiness. Nodding nervously to let his mother know it was alright, she nodded back and stepped aside to allow entry. But before Rhaenyra could step through his doorway, a flash of a child pelted across the room at him.
"Oof!"
He chuckled even though Lucerys practically knocked the wind out of him. Aemond heard his mother call indignantly but he assured her it was alright. Rhaenyra also looked uncomfortable, even if it was her idea to bring her son to visit, the tension between her and his mother still thick even though he could tell they were attempting their best at remaining in the background and civil for their children.
Lucerys was blind to any tension between the two women however, as he reached for Aemond's hand. Surprised at the usual rough-and-tumble child's gentleness, Aemond looked to see his nephew staring at him, the two meeting each other's identical Valyrian gazes. He forgot that Lucerys and his brother had also been there that day at the river and had seen everything that had happened. Aemond also noted the boy was without his dragon, which was highly unusual, and to his bitterness probably intentional.
"Egg."
He had never heard the boy say anything but yell or scream, so Aemond's mouth gaped in shock to hear such a clear and soft word come from Lucerys. Even though just the word hurt his chest, he looked towards Rhaenyra, who beamed back at him, though subdued under the watchful eye of his mother. Unsure how to respond to his nephew still staring up at him, he tried to smile but found the corner of his lips were difficult to turn upwards. The fruit of all his efforts for months had finally produced, yet he lacked the joy to truly celebrate.
"No more egg," he sighed. He patted his nephew on the head softly, awkwardly, remembering Ser Criston's hand on his shoulder had been comforting as he attempted a poor imitation
What was even more surprising, was the understanding he could see cross over the boy's expression. His eyes watered and his mouth trembled. All those books he showed Lucerys just to keep him preoccupied, he hadn't noticed how much the little boy was truly taking in and comprehending. Like he knew what his uncle had lost to the river. Rhaenyra made to intervene and he already knew his mother was going to put an end to this visit. But instead, Aemond ruffled his already wild hair and felt his smile form a little easier.
"It's alright," he said, not sure if it was to Lucerys or the other women watching on tentatively. "It'll be alright."
Thank you so much for reading! I've been coming up with this story since watching episode 10 of HOTD! When first reading Fire and Blood, I had originally thought Aemond sounded like a cool villain and was already excited to see how the show would portray him. Then the writers gave us Leo Ashton and Ewan Mitchell's interpretations and just blew me away! To see how the kinslayer in Westeros history was once a bullied and disregarded child that made him the angry young man he would become in the Dance was just so interesting to me, I couldn't help writing my own take on him. This story will be changing between Lucerys and Aemond's POV's, but will mostly be from Lucerys' perspective, I just I felt I wanted to introduce the story with Aemond and flesh out his character first. Just a warning, this is M/M folks but if you're searching for fast smut, as much as I love em myself, this is not the story for you I'm afraid!
And also, I'd like to dedicate this chapter to my sons. My youngest has autism, so a lot of this I write coming from my own personal experience. He is about to be 6 and talking almost completely, but the first years he was non-verbal his brother was very much involved with us all trying to get his speech to emerge. But for this story, I'd like to leave most to interpretation for readers, but I wouldn't say I'm writing Lucerys with autism, but more with a developmental delay that's actually common amongst children and grow out of in most cases.
Please leave comments and let me know what you think! Constructive critism is very much appreciated!